


Cherish

by naity_sama



Series: Cherishing You [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: >.>, Fluff, M/M, Slash, Slow Burn, bagginshield
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-29 00:10:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naity_sama/pseuds/naity_sama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin can no longer convince himself that Bilbo is a burden on their journey, but not for lack of trying. It has been many long years since the Dwarves welcomed another into their family, and some are having much more trouble adjusting than others. - Slow Thilbo/Bagginshield with some nice Fili/Kili throughout</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello~! This is the main fic I am writing right now, but I'll be throwing out little side shots and maybe a few unrelated oneshots.
> 
> I apologize if it takes me some time to update.

Somewhere in the darkness beyond the flickering reach of the low camp fire, occasional furtive rustlings in the leaf litter disturbed the relatively quiet night as a dozen Dwarves (and a single Hobbit) slumbered. The sound came at first from the left, and then the right, moving all around as some night-prowling rodent continued it's nightly search for juicy insects amongst the trees. Between the rustlings, soft snoring could be heard over the faint crackling of the fire. Sitting just at the guttering edge of the circle of light cast by the flames, a shadowed figure twitched at each foreign sound that floated towards him on the mild breeze. His hand rested hesitantly in the air, hovering just over his snoring brother's blanketed shoulder. With each twitch, his fingers curled restlessly, rubbing together the hard calluses gained from years of working with weapons and tools. Finally, after many long minutes, Kili lowered his arm back to his side and rested his hand near the taut string of his bow.

Lips pulling into a tiny, embarrassed smile, Kili shook his head and let out a breathless huff of laughter. Nothing wayward was stirring out in the darkened forest, or there would be no cricket song or sleepy birds trilling softly from their treetop roosts. The skies were calm and clear, with the distant glimmer of starlight peeking through the patchy canopy of their small clearing. The balmy air carried nothing more harmful than the delicate scent of blooming night-flowers. Still, Kili had to force himself to relax at the occasional sounds of animal life that stirred through the forest. To calm himself, he looked at his companions, gaze dropping from one to another as the shadows wavered across their bundled forms. His dark eyes lingered on each long enough to ensure that they were truly sleeping. They lingered on the shadowy lump that was Thorin resting against a tree the longest, because sometimes Thorin was very good at feigning sleep, and was often sleepless. Still, their fearless leader would never stoop low enough to feign a snore. Thus, the reedy breaths that fluttered Thorin's beard indicated that he was indeed sound asleep.

Shaking his dark hair out of his eyes, Kili looked to his brother, so close to where he crouched. Only the golden top of Fili's head protruded from the bedroll, with one of his braids hanging out awkwardly against the blanket. He could just see the tips of his brother's fingers under the bottom edge of the bedding, resting lightly near the hilt of his sword where it lay beside him. With a soft smile, Kili watched the rise and fall of the rough blanket, listening to the muffled breaths beneath. Very carefully, Kili's fingers coiled the loose braid back where it belonged. After a moment, he leaned back and looked again at the others. The faint glimmer of light striking Thorin's eyes betrayed the fact that he had awoken.

Sweetly, Kili flashed his uncle a bright grin and waggled his fingers playfully at the older dwarf. The glinting eyes across the clearing closed and Thorin turned his head away, the tiniest hint of a smile quirking the corner of his lip. Knowing better than to laugh audibly, Kili shifted so that he could stand, and picked his way over to Thorin's side. The tiny sigh from his uncle the only indicator that Thorin felt his presence. Still, Kili's eyes drifted in the direction his uncle faced, and they landed on their unlikely little burglar. The unlikely little hobbit who, buried entirely in a large blanket, was a pile of wool in the dim light. The hobbit had come both a long way, and yet not so very far since the beginning of his journey. The strange little Halfling was indeed quite a ways from the creature comforts of his little hillside abode in the shire. Nevertheless, he managed to make do without too much fuss, and only a little trouble. He had made himself a member of their party, and a friend, as well. Although, not one of the Dwarves could tell you exactly when Bilbo had become more friend than burden. Except maybe Thorin. Kili flicked his eyes back to his only uncle and speculated at what was going on inside his King's shaggy head.

As if he could sense the mischief (and surely most times it seemed to Kili that he could), Thorin's eyes opened to narrowed slits that glared flatly at his youngest nephew's twitching smirk. Undeterred, Kili's arched brows waggled up and down questioningly as he pointed his fuzzy chin at the blanket pile that was Bilbo. Thorin's pale eyes flicked to the Hobbit and back, if anything, narrowing further. This was not the first time that his dark-haired nephew had caught him staring at their company's tiniest member while he was unawares, but it was the first time he had called him out on it. The dancing shadows across Thorin's motionless face only intensified the level stare he cast at Kili in blatant refusal of communicating his thoughts.

Kili, however, was well used to his relative's concrete-faced displays and knew how to interpret the look. His uncle was beginning to soften up towards the Halfling, but would not, out of pride, admit that he had more than a business interest in Bilbo's welfare. It had been a long time (quite a very long time) since Thorin had allowed anyone new to become any kind of friend. It would be a while yet before Thorin would let it show that he had begun to change his mind on the Hobbit's place in their group and on their quest. Still, it was a start. Boldly, Kili beamed an encouraging smile at his uncle, and couldn't help but laugh just a little when those gleaming eyes narrowed into tiny slivers.

Realizing that he had goaded Thorin more than enough for one night, Kili inclined his head to him and wandered off to watch the night outside their clearing for any possible signs of danger. Behind him, pale eyes once again stared at the blanket-wrapped figure lying near the flickering flames.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Thorin have a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As for the setting...Well, there are some incongruities.   
> This is supposed to be after the Eagles saved them, right around the end of the first movie. I've taken a few liberties and added an extra day in the mix. Both movie and book tend to gloss over days and weeks of mostly uneventful (as far as battle goes) travel. Meanwhile, the characters are interacting. I'd like to stick to these interactions and mostly gloss over the main points that the book and movie covered. I'm not trying to write the book here. So, don't mind if there are some terrible incongruities about items and things that they shouldn't still have after such-and-such an event. I figure a few things actually managed to tumble with the Dwarves out of the Goblin hole.

Far above the land, the first light of day crept over the mountains, only just reaching the tops of the trees. The budding dawn was bright with color; the still air heavy with waiting. And then it broke in a wash of color. If the forest had awoken alone upon this day, it would have happened as if the Earth held its breath as dawn entered day. And wherever the spreading glow touched, it scattered a soft, golden light in dappled sheets upon the ground. It was a sight to behold, as if a wave of golden coins had been spilled across the forest floor. A hungry dwarf waits for no dawn, however. The excited thumping of booted feet back and forth through the clearing overlaid the first tremulous notes of morning birdsong beneath the boughs, and deep voices crooned a Dwarvish song of waking to greet the new day. The noise would have been loud enough to rouse even the heaviest sleeper, much less a weary and travel-worn Hobbit. However, the clanging and banging always came early in a Dwarven encampment. Especially on a good day, in which the weather was fine and tempers were at ease.

As Bilbo's sleep-muddled thoughts began to clear, he was able to identify the sounds around him. To one side, a steady tap-scrape-scuff was Bofur stirring at a pot of stew, soon to be the company's breakfast. The oddly harmonious chorus of blades being honed was ritual for most of the Dwarves when preparing for the possible dangers of the day. Somewhere off in the trees came the sound of Kili's laughter burbling over Fili's exasperated shouts. The brat had stolen something again, Bilbo surmised as he tossed his ragged blanket off and stretched his arms.

"Oh!," Bilbo winced when his poor muscles decided to remind him that he had done a lot of bouncing over rocks and being dragged around lately. All of it against his will. Gathering himself, Bilbo staggered to his feet on his second try. Everything ached. He had bruises across his back and ribs for sure, and one good one on his bum that he suspected (hopefully) might finally be starting to fade. Bilbo's hand rubbed tenderly at his bottom before he gathered up his blanket and set to folding the torn cloth as neatly as was possible. He'd be wanting to hurry along, because breakfast would be done soon enough and he'd be right sorry if he didn't take the time for a proper stretch before they began marching again. Once the corners were as square as he could get them, Bilbo rolled the blanket up and tied it with a scrap of string.

It was Fili's, actually. But the Dwarf had earnestly insisted to him that Kili's bigger blanket would be enough for the both of them, and that Bilbo didn't have any thick leathers to keep him warm on a chilly night. Really, the young warrior had pretty much forced the blanket on him, although Bilbo really couldn't complain because it was quite welcome. And, just to make sure that "Mister Boggins" couldn't refuse, Kili had stood beside his brother with a pleading look in his eyes and the slightest tremble about his lips. Bilbo was rather aware of the fact that Kili was overdoing it for his benefit, but the brothers' concerns were real. Smiling a little at remembering Kili's whoop of joy at his acceptance, Bilbo laid the blanket against a tree and wandered a little ways off into the woods, where it was a bit more quiet, (but not so far from camp that he would worry about being in danger).

Across the narrow trails between the towering trunks, the shadows of the leaves on high flitted with the breeze. For a moment, Bilbo could imagine that it was strewn gold that the sun flickered off of. But Bilbo was a gentlehobbit, and he had never seen more than a few handfuls of gold in all his life. Still, he stopped in a wider spot and let the light dance over his upheld palms with a delighted little smile. He had been about to let the imagined gold slide from his hands when a voice caused him to start. "Imagine gold as far as your eye can see," the voice was deep and quiet, but it carried though the space between them with ease. "Piles and piles of it, built up higher than the tallest man." Thorin's eyes rested on Bilbo's upraised hands from where he stood on the little path. The soft look on the Dwarf King's face could only be nostalgia.

"Coins and baubles and goblets for drinking. Figures and beads, and things made for the pure pleasure of having. Gems of the brightest hues." Thorin raised his eyes to meet Bilbo's. "Imagine, if you can, the feel of it underfoot as you walk, because there is no other place to step. You could make your bed of gold, if you pleased. Just to lay upon the bulk of it, or spin it into cloth. That is what lies buried within Erebor." The Dwarf's pale eyes regarded Bilbo with all the intensity of a mountain stream turned river during summer melt.

For another moment, Bilbo tried to imagine the warm sunlight as gold, and felt the cold weight of it in his hands. He stared for a long moment and could see the gleam of it in his mind.  
"I can't imagine that gold would make a comfortable bed, for all its splendor. It would be a cold night indeed, for it has no warmth. And it is hard, for all that it is a soft metal." Bilbo let the imagined coins fall from his hands with a contemplative frown. For a second, he let his eyes linger upon is peeling palms. When he looked to Thorin, though, the Dwarf was scowling mightily off into the distance. Bilbo thought that he had offended the other, until Thorin's gaze met his own once again.

"Aye. Only a fool or a dragon would sleep on such a bed for long, it is true. You cannot eat gold, or drink it when there is nothing to buy with it but dust." Thorin nodded his solemn agreement before walking past the Hobbit with a strange sidelong glance. Staring after the King Under the Mountain, Bilbo tried to decipher what emotions had been behind that pale-blue gaze. He wondered if Thorin could feel the questioning eyes on his broad back.


End file.
